Caught in the Middle
by Yatzstar
Summary: While Stan and Dipper are out, an old face from Stan's past comes looking for him, and Ford and Mabel find themselves caught in the middle. Ford and Mabel bonding.


"Hey, I'm going to the store. You need anything?"

Mabel looked up at Grunkle Stan, who stood in the doorway of the living room. "No, thanks."

Dipper jumped up from the armchair. "Ooh, can I come with you? There's a sweet new mystery book I want to check out."

Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes, but there was no true annoyance in his voice. "Fine, but don't expect me to spend a fortune on you kid."

"Yes!" Dipper ran past Stan to get his shoes.

He turned back to Mabel. "Ford's in the basement if you need anything, but try not to bother him unless the house is burning down. You know how he is with all the nerd stuff."

"Alright!" she replied, turning her attention back to the sweater she was knitting. A few minutes later, the door slammed, and the Mystery Shack fell silent. Mabel hummed a tuneless song to herself as she knitted, her mind drifting into a daydream as her hands worked automatically.

The doorbell rang, shattering the silence. Mabel started at the sound, dropping her knitting needles.

"I'm coming!" she shouted as the doorbell rang again. She went to the door and opened it, finding herself faced with several older, heavily tattooed men.

"Hi!" she said. They looked a bit odd, but they definitely weren't the weirdest thing she had seen in Gravity Falls. "What can I do for you?"

"Is this the residence of Stan Pines?" the foremost man said, his words punctuated with a heavy accent that sounded Spanish.

"Yeah, but he's not here right now. He'll be back soon, though. Are you friends of his?"

"You could say that."

"Well, I would let you in but I'm not supposed to let strangers in while Grunkle Stan isn't here. If you come back later, I'm sure he—"

"We're not going anywhere," said the man.

Mabel's eyes widened. The malice in his voice made her realize she should not have opened the door. She made to slam it shut, but the man put his boot in the way, preventing her from shutting it. He forced the door open, causing her to stumble backwards.

"Help!" she screamed, turning to run. "Grunkle For—" A hand clamped down over her mouth, cutting off her cry.

/

He was working when he heard it.

"Help!"

Ford straightened from his journal, recognizing the voice of his niece. Was it merely a scream as she ran from her brother, or was it something more?

"Grunkle For—"

She never called for him. Something was wrong. Fear shot through him, and he snatched up his trenchcoat as he ran for the elevator.

/

Mabel sat still as stone, hyper aware of the gun pointed at her temple. She didn't know if Ford could have heard her all the way in the basement.

"What do you want?" she whispered, her voice coming out squeakier than she intended it to. "Grunkle Stan hasn't done anything wrong!"

The leading man—the one holding the gun to her—glared at her. "Your "grunkle" owes me and my men a considerable debt. He left me when I got incarcerated and never paid me back."

Mabel swallowed hard. It seemed Grunkle Stan's past of fake IDs and rip offs seemed to have caught up with him.

"Rico," one of the other men said. "We should probably search the place before he gets back. He might have a safe somewhere."

Rico grunted his assent from where he stood. "Case it."

The three goons went off into the Shack, leaving Mabel and Rico alone.

/

Ford opened the vending machine as quietly as he could, poking his head out into the gift shop. It was deathly quiet, and for a moment he feared Mabel may have been kidnapped, but then the faint strains of conversation reached his ears.

"…look at all this stuff, Gonzalo. That Stan guy was weird but I didn't think he was this weird."

"That girl seems pretty weird too."

Ford gritted his teeth. Mabel. He shut the vending machine as quietly as possible and slunk across the gift shop, coming up beside the door that led into the living room. The voices were coming closer.

"I'll check in here. You go look around down that way."

A pair of footsteps faded away, while another grew closer. Ford readied himself, and the door swung open, the man stepping through. He wrapped his arm around the man's neck, and he let out a soft gurgle as Ford choked him out. The gun slipped from his hands onto the floor and his body went slack as consciousness. At the sight of the powerful-looking pistol on the ground, Ford unceremoniously dumped the man on the floor, all the more anxious for Mabel's sake.

He slipped into the living room, which was empty. He made his way to the doorway, but was not expecting to find Mabel and a strange man sitting in the kitchen.

"Mabel!" he gasped, automatically starting forward, but froze as the man pressed the barrel of the gun harder into her temple, causing her to cringe.

"Steve Pinington, or should I say Stan Pines," the man said, looking Ford up and down. "It seems time has not been kind to you."

"That's not…" Mabel started weakly, but trailed off as Rico turned to her.

"Thought you could lie to me?" he snarled. "Thought you could tell me he wasn't here, eh?" He raised his free hand and backhanded her across the face, hard. The resulting cry of pain from her shot straight into the rapidly growing rage boiling in Ford's stomach.

"Let her go!" he shouted. If she didn't have a gun to her head, he would have been on him in a second.

"Not until you give me the money you owe me," Rico said.

Ford was clueless as to what he was talking about, but he figured it had something to do with his brother's illicit activities in the ten years they were separated. "I don't have any money."

"He's lying."

Ford jumped at the new voice in his ear. The two remaining goons that were not unconscious had come up behind him.

"Found a safe in his room. Probably has a lotta money."

"So now you're lying to me," Rico said, shaking his head. "A poor choice, because that means more pain for the girl." He raised his fist in Mabel's direction, but Ford sprang forward, desperate.

"Wait! Stop! Don't hurt her, please! I'll do whatever you want!"

Rico paused. "Will you give me the money?"

"Yes," Ford said. "I'll give you whatever you want, just please leave her alone."

Rico nodded to his goons. "Search him."

Ford tensed up as the goons came around to his front. He had to wait for the right moment. One of them bent close, reaching to search inside his coat…

"Now, Mabel!" Ford shouted.

Mabel whipped out the grappling hook concealed inside her baggy sweater that she had slowly been inching her hand towards. Before Rico could react, she fired it directly into his face, causing him to stumble backwards and fall over, the gun clattering to the floor.

Ford elbowed the goon nearest him in the face, sending him reeling backwards. He grabbed the other one by the shoulders and headbutted as hard as he could, anger fueling his movements. The man crumpled to the floor and Ford turned to the one he had elbowed, clocking him in the face and laying him out cold.

The room went quiet save for Mabel's shaky breathing. Ford pulled out his ray gun and walked towards Rico, who was clutching at his bleeding face.

"You made a mistake thinking I was Stan," Ford growled, planting a boot on the man's chest. "I may look like him, but I am infinitely worse, especially when you hurt my niece."

Rico opened his mouth to make some sort of response, but Ford punched him before he could speak, knocking him out.

Mabel let out a half exhale, half sob, the grappling hook falling from her nerveless hands. Ford felt all his anger vanish as he turned to her, replaced by concern.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" he asked, kneeling down to her level. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head, another sob escaping her. "I was so scared, Grunkle Ford! I was so—"

"I know," he murmured, laying his ray gun aside and gathering her trembling form into his arms. "Shh. It's alright."

She clutched at his trenchcoat, hiding her face in his sweater. He rocked her gently, stroking her hair, feeling an odd mix of worry for her and unbridled anger at the intruders.

When one of the men stirred and groaned, Mabel let out a squeak of terror. Ford left her and lifted the man up by his collar, clocking him across the face and knocking him out again for even inadvertently scaring her.

"I'll have to tie them up," he mused, letting the body crumple to the floor. "If only I had some rope…"

"What about ribbon?" Mabel spoke up. "That stuff is impossible to escape."

Ford smiled at her. "Ribbon it is."

Twenty minutes later, Mabel sat on the kitchen counter, kicking her feet as she held an icepack to her cheek, surveying their work proudly. All four men now lay in the kitchen, bound and gagged in varying bright colors. Ford stood next to her, dialing Stan's cellphone number.

The phone rang several times before Stan picked up.

"Hello?" Stan's gruff voice said from the other end.

"Stan, it's me."

"Sixer? What are you calling me for?"

"There's been a beak-in at the Mystery Shack."

"What?" Ford moved the receiver away from his ear slightly at his brother's exclamation. "Are you alright? Is Mabel hurt?"

"We're fine," Ford said, turning to eye Rico, who was just coming to. "It's one of the culprits I would be worried about."

"Why?"

Ford met Rico's fearful gaze with one of unrestrained malice. "He fell into the bottomless pit."

Ford ignored his muffled pleas the entire way to the bottomless pit. Rico shook his head frantically as he neared the gaping abyss, attempting to dig his heels into the dirt, but Ford would have none of it. He had hurt Mabel. He kicked him into the pit without a second thought, and Rico vanished with a horrified scream.

Ford pulled back his sleeve, looking at his watch. "Three…two…"

Rico came hurtling upwards out of the pit, landing next to him in a heap. Ford loomed over him, planting a boot on his shoulder. "Want to go again?"

Rico shook his head, muffled cries coming from behind the gag.

"You should have thought of that before you slapped my niece." He kicked the criminal over the edge again.

"How many times are you gonna do that to him, Grunkle Ford?" Mabel called from the porch of the Mystery Shack.

"As many as I need to until I'm not angry anymore," he replied, watching with satisfaction as Rico flew out of the pit again.

Even when Stan and Dipper got home, he could have stood to send Rico into the pit a few more times.

/

The rest of the day was filled with police paperwork. Even when the criminals were loaded into the police car, followed by several insults from Stan, Ford had a hard time letting Mabel out of his direct line of sight. She seemed to bounce back fairly quickly, maintaining a cheerful demeanor even after answering a thousand questions from Dipper and Stan. A bruise formed on her cheek, but she seemed to use it as an excuse to put stickers on her face.

"Are there any other shady characters from your past I should know about?" Ford asked Stan once the children had finally gone to bed. "So this doesn't happen again?"

Stan shrugged. "Nobody who's alive."

Ford retreated to his room not long after, his knuckles bruised and aching. He hadn't punched that many people since his time beyond the portal. He was just about to lie down and sleep himself when he heard the squeak of his door. He sat up straight, his mind flying to the thought of another intruder, but as his eyes focused he realized it wasn't an intruder.

"Mabel?"

"I wanted to say thank you," she said quietly, her small frame silhouetted in the doorway. "I realize I didn't thank you earlier."

"You don't have to thank me, Mabel," Ford said. "I did everything I could to protect you. That's my job, after all."

"That was so awesome, though!" Mabel cried, stepping further into the room. "Where did you learn to fight like that? You were like something out of Tiger Fist!"

Ford smiled at her enthusiasm. "I learned quite a few things in my time beyond the portal."

Then she got quiet. "What if he had shot you, Grunkle Ford?"

He gestured for her to come sit beside him and she did so, leaning against his side. "You wouldn't have to worry about that, my dear. My trenchcoat is bulletproof, you know."

She gasped. "Really?"

"Yes. It's one of the anomalies I found here in Gravity Falls. It's bulletproof, but not tear-proof, apparently."

"That's awesome," she said. "So if he had shot at you it would have bounced off."

"Yes, it would."

A pause, then "That's a relief."

Ford smiled again, his heart warmed by her compassion towards him. "You should go back to bed, sweetie. You've had a long day."

For a while she said nothing. "Could I…couldImaybesleepherewithyoutonight?"

Ford blinked, confused by the unintelligible string of words that had exited her mouth. "What?"

She inhaled deeply, speaking slower this time. "Could I maybe sleep here with you tonight…just in case?"

Ford looked down at her. Her head was turned downwards as she focused on playing with her sweater, the stickers on her cheek glittering in the light from the window. She was still scared.

"It's okay if you say no," she mumbled. "It's a stupid thing to ask anyway."

"Of course you can sleep here with me, sweetie," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Really?" she exclaimed, turning hopeful eyes to him.

"Really. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't enjoy some company myself."

"Thank you, Grunkle Ford!" She tackle-hugged him and he laughed aloud.

Stan found them in the morning, snuggled together under the blankets, each with a smile on their face.


End file.
